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17th day, 1st month

I met with Captain Bassu for the second time today. I asked him during our first meeting to recommend a furson with whom I could review my kit for the voyage; this second meeting was a brief luncheon in my temporary residence at the tavern. Captain Bassu informed me that he would send over a trusted underling in the afternoon for the purpose of reviewing my packed gear, and in his terse way showed that he looked forward to having me aboard his vessel. He drank and ate perfunctorily and also informed me that the vessel will be taken out for some sea trials while the weather is still foul on the morrow, and upon its return would be given a name by Felizidori himself.

The weather has indeed been less than fair. The ancient jetty protecting the harbor is in a state of constant mist as great waves crash over, the wind is relentless from seaward with strong gusts, and the clouds low. I asked the captain if it was no worrying to take a new vessel of novel design out in such seas, and he replied that it would be folly to commence a voyage without testing the ship in rough weather. He has taken the ship out on fine days and a skeleton crew for a few trials, and then in rougher weather, but he said that it would not be possible to take this new ship out in rough weather without a full complement of crew to handle all the tasks required. We had a great, if too brief, discussion on the current state of architecture. I learned a great deal about the captain's hope for innovation in architecture to be translated into ship-building, and he finally became animated and verbose! His thoughts on the potential for improved ships and trade could fill volumes, I think, if he could sit still long enough to write them all down. Then he thanked me and the inn-keeper for the meal, and clomped out into the salty wind.

I had just gone up to my room to write a letter to my uncle when a knock came at the door. Since I had taken my room, I had never had a knock at my door as I prefer to meet contacts and persons in the common room of the inn or at one of the coffee-houses at the far end of the harbor. I opened the door to find the inn-keeper, who informed me I had a caller; and behind her I could just make out the shape of a very large dog. He stepped around her in the hall and ducked his head under the door and I stood aside, as I was so surprised to have a canine visitor I couldn't say a word.

The first two words I could think of to describe my visitor were 'large' and 'virile.' He was a tall, white dog - indeed, even after stepping into my room he couldn't stand up straight - of intensely well-developed musculature. His fur was short and white, mostly, with a black head with a large, irregular white blaze, and black claws on his paws. He wore no shoes. In fact, despite the wind, he wore very little. He had a thick woolen cape hung loose on his shoulders, which only accented the thickness of his neck, a grey woolen sort of breech-clout (of a sort I learned would be extremely commonly worn by sea-dogs, called kowpinam), and woolen gaiters. The overall effect, intentional or otherwise, was to emphasize the dog's body and profoundly, barbarously generous masculinity.

The dog touched his muzzle in salute and introduced himself as Karri, the Chief Dog of Captain Bassu and he would be reviewing my kit.

I was at a loss for words, but I nodded and presented the dog Karri with my two chests of personal items and a list of the other gear I expected to take aboard to record our journey and all the things we encountered. The great dog opened by chests and reviewed most closely my clothing. I had recently procured some wax-cloth outer wear for rough and inclement weather, and some new boots of the same. Karri sorted through things in an orderly fashion, wordlessly, and nodded at a few items and grunted at some others. Then he took the list of equipment and, to my utter amazement, carried it to the window and squatted down to read it by the light. I had never before heard of a dog that was capable of reading, but he looked at the list and told me that he did not know what most of the items were, but inquired what sort of crate or box they would be contained within.

"I have no chests yet for those items," I told the dog. He nodded, and replied that I should go to a certain chest-maker without delay and have him secure for me chests to the specifications of Captain Bassu's ship. He then told me that I should work on walking bare-pawed to toughen my feet, as wearing wet boots was worse than anything and would cause my paws to chafe and become inflamed, and took his leave.

Finally, I regained my composure just as the dog Karri was leaving, and I exclaimed: "Oh, wait one moment, please!"

The dog Karri stopped his exit, sort of ludicrously half-ducking through my doorway, and turned back. "Yes, sir?" he asked.

"What tribe of dog are you?" I asked, hoping that he had a tribe and was not a driftless and tribe-less canine, hoping that it wasn't an offensive question.

The huge dog turned back towards me fully, and stood up as high as he could in my chamber, pressing his cropped (as I finally noticed) ears against the ceiling. "Presa," he said, touching his chest with a paw, "of the Canaries."

I, in my ignorance of dogs, had never heard of such a tribe, and I couldn't restrain my inquisitiveness. "Are your tribe commonly sea-dogs? Will the Presa make a large portion of the crew?" I had yet to meet the canine crew of the new ship.

"Ah, sir. Commonly, yes. The crew will be from many different tribes," and I must not have been able to hide my excitement at learning more of things, because he added: "all of which are usually found as sea-dogs."

I thanked him and he took his leave; and then once again turned back, half-crouched in my doorway. "Ah, sir, one more thing," he said, and he touched his snout like he was sharing a secret. "A galley will be shadowing us out of the harbor tomorrow; if you were to find yourself along a section of the quay near the Alba of Hope I imagine that no-one would stop a gentle-cat from boarding her along with the official party to view us in action!"

Then he left me and I went to the window and watched him walk down in the wind, noticing that his tail was wagging above the rear of his kowpinam as the wind pulled at his cape. I felt excitement, and like I had a fondness for this literate dog. Strange! I will write more on the morrow, and perhaps steal aboard this galley to see my future home brave the rough sea!